In Which Greg Sanders Swears Off Candy Corn
by Gryvon
Summary: Gil/Greg. Gil comes home to find Greg suffering ill effects from the techs' Halloween party.


Greg groaned as he heard the front door open and close. He had been hoping to avoid this. A second groan escaped him as he realized how long he must have been sitting in the bathroom if Gil was back already.

Footsteps echoed through the still apartment. He could hear Gil going through his normal routine, the sounds so familiar to him that they were comforting. Right now Gil was hanging his coat in the closet and placing his shoes in a neat row beneath, his briefcase left leaning on the wall by the door. No doubt, Gil thought he was asleep. Greg would have liked to have been asleep but his stomach had other plans.

A loud, violent heave ended those notions and he could hear Gil quickly detour away from the bedroom. Even without any lights on, Greg could imagine the expression was on Gil's face. Grissom would be standing there with a slight frown, carefully studying the scene before acting, judging it as best he could in the faint light shed by the nightlight on the sink.

Another heave kept Greg's head over the toilet. He groaned.

Gil stepped past him without a word. The faucet turned on for a short moment then off just before Gil sat beside him, one hand resting on the back of Greg's neck.

"Deep into darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dare to dream before."

If he didn't feel like death warmed over, Greg would have laughed. This strange form of Grissom-speech was slowly becoming a second language to him. In his head he translated the quote into what Gil was really asking – are you alright, and what happened.

"Kill me now and put me out of my misery," Greg croaked as he leaned away from the toilet. He took the washcloth Gil handed him with a small smile of gratitude, quickly wiping the sweat off his face before rubbing the fabric over his tongue in an attempt to get the taste of candy corn out of his mouth.

The toilet flushed, taking with it the last contents of his stomach. He tossed the washcloth onto the counter.

"I'm guessing I shouldn't ask how your evening went."

Greg leaned back against Grissom's chest, feeling better just from the man's presence. He closed his eyes, wondering if Gil would let him sleep here. He felt too tired to move.

"Remind me never to eat that much candy corn again," Greg muttered. He didn't even want to look at the stuff for at least a month, though he doubted he was the only one who'd developed an aversion to the stuff after last night's party.

"You're not twenty anymore, Greg. You're body's not going to tolerate all that junk food anymore."

Greg swatted lazily at Gil's knee. "I'm not that old. I've eaten worse and lived. But the candy corn soda with rum was definitely a bad idea."

He could almost feel Gil's eyebrows rise. "Candy corn soda?"

"It's some specialty stuff that Archie brought. Limited run, just for Halloween. Came in these really cute tiny cans."

"That sounds disgusting."

Greg chuckled. This coming from the man who had a stash of chocolate covered grasshoppers in the fridge. "It wasn't that bad, just really sweet with this cool neon yellow color." He had been thinking about getting a couple cases on clearance, but not anymore.

"The most brightly colored creatures tend to be the most poisonous."

Only Grissom would come up with an answer like that. "Soda is not an animal," he answered calmly.

"The principle could still apply."

Greg smiled. "I'll remember that next time I'm driving through a herd of construction cones."

Gil chuckled, squeezing him lightly around the shoulders. "And to think I worried about coming home to you on a sugar high."

"I would have preferred that. I even had a bit of one all worked up. Lucky for you, my stomach kind of killed that plan."

"How unfortunate," Grissom said with a completely straight face.

Greg's smile stretched into a slight leer. "I think you might have enjoyed it. You did last Halloween." Admittedly there were some interesting costumes involved last year. Greg made a mental note to dig them out of storage.

"Time for bed, I think."

Greg groaned as Gil pulled away. He was finally comfortable for the first time since he'd come home. After the night he'd just had, sleeping on the cool linoleum floor was very tempting. He told Gil as much.

"Trust me, your body will thank me in the morning. Nice as it might feel, the bathroom floor is not good for sleeping."

Gil helped him to his feet, supporting Greg as he staggered, his stomach clenching painfully at the change in position.

"I never did get to see your costume," Gil commented as he helped Greg onto the bed.

Raising his arms, he let Gil pull off his t-shirt. Once the fabric was gone he fell back on the bed. He was tempted to fall asleep like that.

"Nick has pictures. I'll ask him for a copy," he answered slowly, forcing himself to stay awake. In other circumstances, he might have been a little more enthusiastic about Gil undoing his belt. Instead he lifted his hips just enough to give Gil room to slide the fabric down and let his eyes roll shut. His stomach felt rebellious again but the bed was too comfortable to contemplate a trip back to the bathroom.

Gil swatted him on the side. "Come on, you can't sleep like that."

Opening one eye a crack, he stared down at Gil, now in the middle of taking off his own pants. "You know very well I could."

"Well, I'm not going to." Gil folded back the top corner of the blankets.

With a pout Greg got up and crawled into the space Gil opened for him. The blankets dropped over him while Gil walked around to get in on the other side. Greg immediately rolled over to latch onto Gil, curling around his favorite pillow. "Happy Halloween." 


End file.
